Dejection: An Ode Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABCDE FEEFGGHHIIIIJIJIIIKL CMMCIIN N OONNCCCC PPICCIQQ M MMIRIISIRIRI M MMIICTCCCCTIIUIUI M MVMWXXRRTRTYZYZZA2A2 M IB2IB2IIMB2B2MC2C2D2 E2F2IIIG2IH2ICIIII2I II2CC M J2J2JRJRK2K2UA2A2MUU

Late late yestreen I saw the new moonA
With the old moon in her armsB
And I fear I fear my master dearC
We shall have a deadly stormD
Ballad of Sir Patrick SpenceE
-
I-
-
Well If the Bard was weather wise who madeF
The grand old ballad of Sir Patrick SpenceE
This night so tranquil now will not go henceE
Unroused by winds that ply a busier tradeF
Than those which mould yon cloud in lazy flakesG
Or the dull sobbing draft that moans and rakesG
Upon the strings of this Aeolian luteH
Which better far were muteH
For lo the New moon winter brightI
And overspread with phantom lightI
With swimming phantom light o'erspreadI
But rimmed and circled by a silver threadI
I see the old Moon in her lap foretellingJ
The coming on of rain and squally blastI
And oh that even now the gust were swellingJ
And the slant night shower driving loud and fastI
Those sounds which oft have raised me whilst they awedI
And sent my soul abroadI
Might now perhaps their wonted impulse giveK
Might startle this dull pain and make it move and liveL
-
II-
-
A grief without a pang void dark and drearC
A stifled drowsy unimpassioned griefM
Which finds no natural outlet no reliefM
In word or sigh or tearC
O Lady in this wan and heartless moodI
To other thoughts by yonder throstle wooedI
All this long eve so balmy and sereneN
Have I been gazing on the western sky-
And its peculiar tint of yellow greenN
And still I gaze and with how blank an eye-
And those thin clouds above in flakes and barsO
That give away their motion to the starsO
Those stars that glide behind them or betweenN
Now sparkling now bedimmed but always seenN
Yon crescent Moon as fixed as if it grewC
In its own cloudless starless lake of blueC
I see them all so excellently fairC
I see not feel how beautiful they areC
-
III-
-
My genial spirits failP
And what can these availP
To lift the smothering weight from off my breastI
It were a vain endeavourC
Though I should gaze foreverC
On that green light that lingers in the westI
I may not hope from outward forms to winQ
The passion and the life whose fountains are withinQ
-
IVM
-
O Lady we receive but what we giveM
And in our life alone does Nature liveM
Ours is her wedding garment ours her shroudI
And would we aught behold of higher worthR
Than that inanimate cold world allowedI
To the poor loveless ever anxious crowdI
Ah from the soul itself must issue forthS
A light a glory a fair luminous cloudI
Enveloping the EarthR
And from the soul itself must there be sentI
A sweet and potent voice of its own birthR
Of all sweet sounds the life and elementI
-
VM
-
O pure of heart thou need'st not ask of meM
What this strong music in the soul may beM
What and wherein it doth existI
This light this glory this fair luminous mistI
This beautiful and beauty making powerC
Joy virtuous Lady Joy that ne'er was givenT
Save to the pure and in their purest hourC
Life and Life's effluence cloud at once and showerC
Joy Lady is the spirit and the powerC
Which wedding Nature to us gives in dowerC
A new Earth and new HeavenT
Undreamt of by the sensual and the proudI
Joy is the sweet voice Joy the luminous cloudI
We in ourselves rejoiceU
And thence flows all that charms or ear or sightI
All melodies the echoes of that voiceU
All colours a suffusion from that lightI
-
VIM
-
There was a time when though my path was roughM
This joy within me dallied with distressV
And all misfortunes were but as the stuffM
Whence Fancy made me dreams of happinessW
For hope grew round me like the twining vineX
And fruits and foliage not my own seemed mineX
But now afflictions bow me down to earthR
Nor care I that they rob me of my mirthR
But oh each visitationT
Suspends what Nature gave me at my birthR
My shaping spirit of ImaginationT
For not to think of what I needs must feelY
But to be still and patient all I canZ
And haply by abstruse research to stealY
From my own nature all the natural manZ
This was my sole resource my only planZ
Till that which suits a part infects the wholeA2
And now is almost grown the habit of my soulA2
-
VIIM
-
Hence viper thoughts that coil around my mindI
Reality's dark dreamB2
I turn from you and listen to the windI
Which long has raved unnoticed What a screamB2
Of agony by torture lengthened outI
That lute sent forth Thou Wind that rav'st withoutI
Bare crag or mountain tairn or blasted treeM
Or pine grove whither woodman never clombB2
Or lonely house long held the witches' homeB2
Methinks were fitter instruments for theeM
Mad Lutanist who in this month of showersC2
Of dark brown gardens and of peeping flowersC2
Mak'st Devils' yule with worse than wintry songD2
The blossoms buds and timorous leaves amongE2
Thou actor perfect in all tragic soundsF2
Thou mighty poet e'en to frenzy boldI
What tell'st thou now aboutI
'Tis of the rushing of an host in routI
With groans of trampled men with smarting woundsG2
At once they groan with pain and shudder with the coldI
But hush there is a pause of deepest silenceH2
And all that noise as of a rushing crowdI
With groans and tremulous shudderings all is overC
It tells another tale with sounds less deep and loudI
A tale of less affrightI
And tempered with delightI
As Otway's self had framed the tender layI2
'Tis of a little childI
Upon a lonesome wildI
Not far from home but she hath lost her wayI2
And now moans low in bitter grief and fearC
And now screams loud and hopes to make her mother hearC
-
VIIIM
-
'Tis midnight but small thoughts have I of sleepJ2
Full seldom may my friend such vigils keepJ2
Visit her gentle Sleep with wings of healingJ
And may this storm be but a mountain birthR
May all the stars hang bright above her dwellingJ
Silent as though they watched the sleeping EarthR
With light heart may she riseK2
Gay fancy cheerful eyesK2
Joy lift her spirit joy attune her voiceU
To her may all things live from pole to poleA2
Their life the eddying of her living soulA2
O simple spirit guided from aboveM
Dear Lady friend devoutest of my choiceU
Thus mayst thou ever evermore rejoiceU

Samuel Taylor Coleridge



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Khurram Lohia: Very nice poem
 

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